2018. . .and winter came

It was a winter year,
a planting of seeds in the darkness year,
and waiting,
and waiting,
patiently,
impatiently,
pacing the well-worn paths of my heart.
Nurturing the tender new shoots.
Weeding the beliefs that would choke their growth.
And trusting.
Trusting the garden would bloom again.
More spectacular and vibrant,
than I had ever known.

I recently wrote that poem and shared it on Instagram. It pretty accurately sums up the year I just had.

I'm not a big fan of resolutions (they seem to all require willpower which is a finite thing). I don't clearly remember the intentions I set for 2018 last January either. I know I chose 3 words and I'm pretty sure ease and abundance were among them.

I can, however, sum up 2018 in 2 words: patience and trust

PATIENCE: I am NOT the most patient person. I tend to be very future-focused (which generally fuels anxiety as you constantly remind yourself how far you still have to go). And yet, patience was the word I that was hand-delivered from the Universe. I would NEVER have chosen it for myself.

2018 was a year in limbo. It was the first year I spent separated from my husband of 18 years (that's half my life). It was the first year Heartlines was *supposed* to support me and my kids completely - it didn't come even close.

I dealt with numerous health issues. A serious case of fear of failure and feeling not good enough. I've spent the last 8 months searching for the just-right-for-us house, where my kids will grow up. I've been outbid time and again. The search continues.

So I prioritized self-care and healing. Followed my heart even when it made zero sense to me but couldn't be ignored - now I'm a Reiki master x2.

I navigated parenting 2 kids who were anxious, insecure and confused by our divorce. I wish I could say I did so gracefully but at least I can say I did so with love.

It has felt like a winter year. A planting of seeds year. A year of waiting. . .and slowing down. A year of letting go, allowing all the baggage and negative beliefs to die. A year of redefining myself and my business.

I made some incredible progress.

I've been reacquainting myself with who I am. Who I REALLY am. Outside of an abusive relationship where I had to play small and think less of myself to survive. A relationship that had defined me to myself more than I ever realized. My boundaries and standards have grown in proportion to my increasing self-worth.

I let go of most of my packages. And got super focused and clear on what I REALLY wanted to create. I created a digital shop. Ran the beta test for my copywriting course.

I made incredible new friendships. Felt more peaceful, more calm, more grounded and more me than ever before. I have more faith than ever too (and honestly, I think that could've easily gone either way).

It wasn't an easy year. It was rarely easy. But it was healing. And it was necessary.

Did I learn patience? Still a work in progress. But I'm able to be more present and that's a start.

Did I learn to trust? Also, a work in progress. But I'm trusting myself and my intuition more than ever. I'm trusting God more every day too.

I learned I'm made of tougher stuff than I imagined. I'm learning it's possible to be strong AND soft. Be an empath with firm boundaries. That optimism is my natural state. And that my fears might delay me but they will never stop me.

I'm excited for 2019. Excited about new opportunities. Excited to relaunch my copywriting course. Excited to finally create a life that nourishes me and my kids.

Resilient isn't shiny or bright.
It's storm-weathered,
heart-torn,
walked through fire to be here.
Still standing,
Still reaching for the light,
Still thriving
in spite. . . of


Was 2018 a winter year for you too?

If you need space to lay out all the bad and the good side-by-side, if you need to stop pretending everything is sunshine and roses so you can see the heart of your own truth and what an incredible warrior you are - I encourage you to write it out. Journal it. Email it to me if you need a witness. Show it to a loved one. Keep it to yourself. Either way, I'll be holding space for you.